


Free-Falling (For You)

by MonkyRebel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 16:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20245549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkyRebel/pseuds/MonkyRebel
Summary: Tony considered himself a collector and researcher of strange artefacts. So when his adventures with Loki lead him to an odd little thing, it also leads him to jail, and then to a sharply ended free-fall.Written for my bingo fill:(B4) Trope: No Escape but Down…





	Free-Falling (For You)

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this wouldn't have been posted without my dearest Senpup (maowiru????) and Leiko. I love y'all so much.
> 
> Again, not the most interesting prompt, but it was a nice challenge to write :D
> 
> Hope you enjoy! <3

Loki managed to bust them out of confinement, but the structure was immense, and for a debtors prison, expensively made. From what he could tell from the outhouse sized cell they had shared it was a tall, winding structure of mismatched floors and shifting spaces.

Lovely, really, if you ignored the chains and tortured screams; A sorely missed opportunity for a politician’s retreat.

Gaelic runes were carved into the sandstone walls, suppressing Loki’s usual magic and preventing teleportation, but Loki's silver tongue was a whole other form of sorcery. That poor guard would need therapy, but more urgently, a few stitches.

They had weaseled out before processing: before they had been chained up and left to rot forever. And now they were running. Quickly. Downwards.

Another set of stairs, half tripping down each other them, knees heavy with the strain. Too old for this, too shit-faced terrified to stop. 

Gunshots whiz above them, beside them, somehow below them, forcing them to duck and dive - Tony’s body wasn’t meant to move like this, why couldn't they talk it out?

So _ what _ if Tony had taken _ one _little device? What could he say, curiosity killed the cat?

Another sharp turn in the uneven set of steps, another round of bullets hitting their shadows, another strained muscle. Then, as if even the _ building _ was working against them, they launched out of stairwell, skidding to a stop just in time to find themselves on the far edge of the penthouse level; 51 levels above where they had started. Wind and fresh air met them, and the cold horror of failure.

At least it seemed to be a nice day? _ There was soft breeze and it was warm enough for ice cream. I wonder what this planet would look like on a bad day. _

Tony drops that chain of thought, succumbing to the panic. He can’t die like this. Not here.

_ I can't face more stairs. _

There were, mathematically, two ways out. Back, towards the half human, half robot soldier-filled stairwells, or… No. Not again. He had a second to look down the ledge, to the misty far point of asphalt and concrete paving below. 

A strong shove pounded his back. 

Loki always had the _ worst _decisions.

Tony’s feet lose the ground beneath them. The scene feels all too sickeningly familiar; just a few years earlier,_ how different everything had been _. But there was no time for that - he can’t stop himself tumbling over the precipice.

At least they were falling together this time?

His stomach flips at the pull of gravity, muscles tensing and relaxing, his brain utterly frazzled. His eyes hold open long enough to see the rough gravel below him, and clamp shut in an attempt to ignore them. His brain caught up, a scream tearing through his throat, stifled by wind; cheeks ripped raw, all the moisture from his lips evaporated. 

God, he seemed to be falling forever. Numb, frozen skin; His senses bleached - limbs useless and flailing in the freefall. 

Would it hurt? Was it far enough that he’d pass out before the…_ Shit! Pass out, pass out, pass out.. _.

He lands, or rather _ slams _ into the floor with a sickening _ crunch. _ A force like 10 elephant asses jolting through his entire body. 

His kneecaps, if they weren't any more than bone dust now, would feel that for years.

What's broken? Damage report? He’d give his Porche to hear JARVIS right now. He was on his front, he knew that, but his nose wasn’t broken, and he didn't have a mouthful of dirt. 

Small miracles.

Tony allows himself a moment to breathe. He’s warm, and breathing, and… 

He pries open an eye, just enough to see the light, and squints into, presumably, his death scene. Hopefully his guiding angel was hot, and not judgmental that he died like this. 

He makes out something black, and little else, vision blurred by man-tears.

He releases the other eye, and seemed to _ not _be dead? Mostly? He stared dumbly below him at what should have been his own blood and smashed bone.

A leather buckled and green velvet cushion seemed to have softened the impact. He lay cradled in Loki’s arms as they both rested at the base of the tower. 

In a moment of fear, he looks back at his ass, neck groaning at the effort, but that worry quiets - no, they weren't impaled on anything. Imagine the pap pics.

He moved onto the next worry in his long, growing list, and squeezed tightly on Loki's arm. When had he had the time to grab him? Well, regardless, Loki had taken the brunt of the plunge._ Stupid idea _. A jagged crater had formed around him, a dust of debris still settling around them and onto them both. 

Tony tested his body, pushing himself up into a straddle - disturbing the hand he hadn't noticed, still gripped onto his back. It slid off him, limp, and scuffed a few knuckles on the ground. 

Persevering, Tony sat over the limp meteor with growing concern.

Moving _ hurt _, but he’d had worse hangovers. After an advil and a hair of the dog he’d be right back to the background pain of age and poor lifestyle. Pain was preferable over... Well, he was glad to be alive.

Loki, on the other hand, _ must _ have been dead. He didn’t move, there was no quip about being a bottom, and there is frankly no way anyone, _ even a god _ , could survive a fall like that - from _ there _ . With distracting curiosity, he looked up at the building, already shifting and twisting itself. He would have to investigate how they did that… Imagine the casinos… _ Focus- We have to get out of here, first, both of us. _

It would be such a tragic end for a such a tragic guy. Tony studies his face, like a grubby stone statue. He puckers at the thin line of red blood running from his nose, down the curve of his mouth, and pooling at his jaw. Blood was, generally, bad. 

Should he slap him?

As if anticipating the abuse, a soft wheeze escaped the corpse. A broken cough follows, protesting against Tony's weight, or maybe an abundance of broken ribs. 

The crazy bastard was alive.

“Aww,” Tony cooed, pushing down the surge of his heart, back into the locked box it had escaped. “I had the eulogy planned.” His voice is harsh in the silence, and disturbs the ex-cadaver into consciousness.

Loki’s eyes appear under his thick lashes - green and _ pissed _ , or was it pain? They didn’t have time to bicker before a rustle of guards rose from their side, approaching from the main entrance, haven taken the long way down. Boring. 

With a _definitely_ _pained_ scowl and a puff of green smoke, Loki took them away, free of the sigils reach. _Far away_. Somewhere with a medic.

Tony would have to rethink his heist.


End file.
